


Caspian One Shots

by Obscurilicious



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:35:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obscurilicious/pseuds/Obscurilicious





	1. From Dream to Dream

“Land, ho!” cried the disembodied voice from the crow’s nest aboard the Dawn Treader.

Caspian raced up from belowdecks, Edmund close on his heels.

“Drinian, you said there was no land for days!” Caspian said curiously. “Have we been blown off course?”

“No, Captain, we have not strayed. This island appears on none of our maps,” he replied, voice colored with concern. “But neither have I ventured so far before.”

“Dare we stop for supplies, Caspian?” Lucy asked, having followed the commotion to the deck.

“I fear we must, and hope that Aslan has had a hand in the uncharted island appearing before us.”

“Are you certain that is wise, Caspian?” Edmund asked, still unfamiliar with his role as subordinate on a ship captained by Caspian.

Caspian shot Drinian a look telling him to remain silent when he could tell that his second was going to remind Edmund of the chain of command aboard ship. “Wise or no, I think we must at least refill our water casks and buy what supplies they may spare. We do not know how much farther our journey will lead us.”

* * *

The crew and passengers of the Dawn Treader limped gratefully into port. A storm had done some damage to the rigging and one of the sails. In addition to food supplies, the crew needed repair supplies and a place to dock for a few.days to do the job.

The first thing Caspian noticed was that everywhere he looked, people wore black: clothing, armbands, hats and veils. All flags were hanging at half-mast and the townsfolk all appeared to have a solemn look about them.

When Caspian found the Harbormaster’s office, he asked, “I apologize for intruding during your time of mourning.”

“It is kind of you to say so, but we have been in mourning in for nigh on three years. We must carry on through our grief,” the harbormaster said solemnly. “I am Harbormaster Bihn.”

“Why have you been in mourning so long?” Lucy asked kindly.

Indeed, it was impossible to take umbrage with Lucy, for her words shone with the light of kindness and empathy. The harbormaster smiled sadly at her and said, “Ah, you must have traveled from afar not to hear of our woes. Come, please share supper with my family and I will tell you our tale.”

Caspian objected, “My good sir, we cannot impose upon your generosity on such short notice. Please be kind enough to direct us to an inn or public house.”

“Nonsense! My wife would have my guts for garters if I didn’t offer our hospitality to the four of you.”

“You are too kind, sir,” Lucy agreed.

* * *

The Harbormaster also served as Mayor of the village. He had no idea that he was currently entertaining three monarchs in his home or his wife would most likely have brained him for giving her no warning. As it was, she smiled a gracious welcome and the four of them crowded around the table with the Bihn children, Lucy sitting next to Eustace to attempt to keep him from insulting the hosts.

“I’m so sorry this dinner is such common fare,” Madame Bihn apologized as she put a large tureen of stew, loaves of crusty bread and pitchers of cider and ale on the table. “My husband never sees fit to send word ahead when we are to have guests, so I cook enough for an army.”

“Madame, this looks delicious. Indeed, we have been on sea rations for so long that this is a feast,” Caspian said truthfully, causing Madame Bihn to smile proudly.

Even Eustace complimented the meal, appreciatively having seconds.

After everyone was full to bursting, their host told the tale. “A few years ago, a mysterious ship sailed into port. A wealthy older gentleman came ashore and was welcomed by our Lord and his daughter, Lady Y/N.

“He joined them for dinner and attempted to bewitch our Lord into giving him his daughter in marriage.”

The guests collectively gasped at this.

“The Lord called for his men at arms and there was a fierce fight, during which time the enchanter cast a spell on the fair Lady Y/N, cursing her that but one man in all of creation could wake her with a kiss of true love.

“She dropped where she stood, protected by her father’s men, breathing but sound asleep. She has lain abed unchanged since that day. Her Papa maintained a vigil at her bedside for the first year and then traveled to sea himself to try and find the enchanter, willing to give him all of his riches to have his daughter back beside him as she was.

“Alas, he took ill at sea, neither finding the enchanter nor returning to his people.

“His brother now rules in his stead. He is not the kind leader that his brother was, but neither is he cruel. He maintains the guard around his niece, who has been kissed by every unwed man in the village, yet still she slumbers.

“So that is why we mourn, for a lost Lord and a cursed Lady who lives yet does not.”

Lucy, ever soft-hearted, wiped away a tear. “My companions will try to revive your Lady,” she said passionately.

Caspian, Edmund and Eustace looked surprised. Caspian cleared his throat and said, “Of course.”

* * *

The harbormaster led the group up the hill to the manor house, modest compared to Caspian’s home, but finely appointed. Lord Nedley led the young men to his niece. There was a collective gasp as they took in your beauty. Suddenly it seemed less a task and more of an honor to attempt to wake you from your enchanted slumber.

Eustace pushed to the front, young as he was, and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. Nothing happened, but no one but Eustace thought that he might be your true love.

Edmund leaned over and gave you a chaste kiss next. Breath held, he leaned back and waited to see if you awoke. After a few moments, Edmund smiled bitterly. “Perhaps if Peter were here,” he muttered under his breath, not intending anyone to hear his comment.

Caspian heard him, though. Edmund was like a brother to him and he didn’t wish to cause him any pain. Though had not been able to take his eyes from your face since they beheld you, Caspian demurred from kissing you.

“I am sure that many more worthy men than I have tried and failed. To know that fine men such as Edmund and Eustace could not wake her does not inspire confidence,” he said in a self-deprecating tone.

“But, sir, you must!” Harbormaster Bihn cried. “Please, if it is possible that you can wake her…”

“You must try, Caspian,” a female voice said.

Caspian looked at you and then Edmund and knew that he could not succeed where Edmund had failed. He leaned forward and allowed his long, loose hair to block his face, then lowered his head to yours. He did not, however, meet your lips with his, though it was the most difficult thing he had ever accomplished. He wanted to kiss you more than he wanted to draw his next breath.

He pulled away and looked expectantly at you along with the others, but all were disappointed, even Lord Nedley.

* * *

_Caspian,_  you thought.  _Do not leave me, my love._

* * *

As the descended the hill to return to the village, Lucy fell back to speak to Caspian.

“I love him, too, but we cannot spare Edmund’s feelings to the detriment of others, Caspian.”

Caspian smiled down at Lucy. “Why should I be surprised that you noticed when no one else did?” he asked.

“If we are to stay in Narnia, then you will need to learn to rule despite our presence, my friend.” She then caught up to Edmund and Eustace and joined in the conversation with Master Bihn.

Caspian reflected on the way the sunlight shimmered against your hair, how delicate were your hands crossed on your lap, the slight arch to your brows, and the bow of your lips that he longed to run up the hill and taste.

But a King must put his people first, and Caspian understood responsibility. He had a quest to complete, and he could not allow your beauty to sway him from his task.

* * *

“Will I come back?” Eustace asked, preparing to follow Edmund and Lucy into the swirling portal back to their own world.

“Narnia may yet have need of you,” Aslan replied.

Caspian stood next to Aslan as Eustace turned to follow his cousins, bereft at knowing that he may never see those that he loved as family again.

Aslan gave him a moment to grieve the loss of his friends, knowing that he faced his future alone.

“Are you well, Caspian?” Aslan asked kindly.

Caspian smiled sadly. “I will miss them. I know you believe me capable of ruling and I am grateful. I am overwhelmed at the idea of ruling alone, though.”

“My son, I never intended for you to rule alone. I sent you your soulmate, who has been waiting for you to wake her from her enchanted sleep.”

“Lady Y/N? She is my soulmate?” Caspian asked happily.

“She is. I led you to her so that you may rule Narnia together.”

“I am sorry, Your Majesty. I felt the pull and worried that I would be setting aside my duties, and…” Caspian hesitated to continue.

“Yes?” Aslan asked in his patient voice.

“I worried that if I woke her Edmund would be jealous.”

“My son, you are a King of Narnia. You cannot base your decisions on the feeling of one person but must consider the needs of all of your people. Narnia needs a Queen. I have chosen Y/N to both love you and to rule with you. Yours will be a happy union.”

Caspian grinned, eager to return to your home. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Go now, your Queen and your Kingdom await you.”

* * *

To be able to hear and smell and feel but not to see or touch had been hellish. Perhaps the worst part of the curse was that you were aware of your surroundings and had suffered through countless kisses, unable even to wipe your mouth after.

When Caspian had entered your chamber a few weeks past, it was as if your body had come alive for the first time in years. To have been within a breath of your one true love, to have smelled his scent and felt his hair brush your cheek had been ecstasy. To know that your soulmate had been within reach but had left you again had been agony.

Hope died within your heart when days turned to weeks and weeks to months. You despaired that this was to be your future: existing, but not living.

_Caspian_ , you called out in your mind.  _Return to me_.

* * *

Caspian usually loved the sea, but now he loathed every moment he was aboard ship, for that was another moment he was not with you. When The Dawn Treader arrived at your home island, Caspian hurried ashore and up the hill to the manor house. Panting, he knocked at the door and was met with a startled servant who led him to you.

Caspian leaned over and brushed his lips against yours, breath held to see if you would awaken.

* * *

You began to feel the slight change in yourself, as if you were more aware of your surroundings, and then you felt the gentlest tickle and then caress upon your lips.

“Caspian,” you whispered against his lips. “My love, you have returned to me.”

Your eyes fluttered open and before you was the most handsome man your eyes had ever beheld. You reached up to place a hand on his cheek, overwhelmed with happiness.

“Thank Aslan, you are awake!” your uncle exclaimed.

“Thank you Aslan, indeed,” Caspian whispered, joy evident in his every movement as he helped you to rise and pulled you into his arms. “Oh my love, forgive me for the weeks I wasted with my doubts.”

You looked into his eyes and smiled. “My darling, there is nothing to forgive. We shall be together forever, for I cannot bear the thought of ever being apart again.”

* * *

So you boarded The Dawn Treader with your maiden aunt as chaperone to sail to Caspian’s home, where you were wedded in a lavish ceremony to the joy of all of Narnia.

And, of course, you lived happily ever after, moving from dream to dream come true.


	2. A World Gone Blind

Caspian had been born into a world gone blind.

The world had been without Aslan for so long that all magic left the world: no dancing trees, no talking animals and no soulmates.

Then one day, while he was running for his life from his uncle, a strange mark appeared on his left wrist. It was a series of vines that snaked around his wrist and across his palm to his ring finger. When later he took off his armor and tunic to wash, he found that it went all the way up his arm to his shoulder and onto his chest.

Caspian was frightened. Had someone cast a spell on him?

“Your Highness,” Reepicheep said as he entered Caspian’s tent, but gasped upon seeing Caspian’s torso. “You have  _La Vena Amoris!”_

“Is it going to kill me?” Caspian asked frantically.

“No no, Your Highness! It is no danger to you!”

“Then what is it?” he replied, still a bit shaken.

_“La Vena Amoris_  is a rare gift among humans. It has not been seen for many centuries while the world was blind to Aslan’s love.”

“Oh. But what is it?” Caspian asked again, if a bit more calmly.

“It is the mark of true love. You have been blessed with a soul mate, Your Highness!” Reepicheep announced grandly and excitedly.

“A soul mate? Truly? I thought they were but a legend,” he breathed, looking at his mark differently now.

“A few weeks ago you were quite surprised to be bested by a talking mouse,” Reepicheep said drily.

Caspian smiled. “You do not always have to remind me that you bested me. I believe I will be able to recall that part all on my own.”

“As is right. Defeats are as important as victories if one learns from them.”

Caspian nodded at the wisdom, but then his eyes returned to the swirling mark that now went from his left hand to his heart. “How do I find her?” he whispered.

“She is your soulmate, Highness. You will find her when the time is right.”

* * *

 

You awoke at sunrise on your 18th birthday. Your family were minor nobles in Telmar, you had never even been to Court. But your land was prosperous and your people healthy. Indeed, your Mother had been a healer when she met your Father. He had not cared that she was not of noble birth; he had fallen in love with her and begged her parents for her hand in marriage.

And it had been a good marriage. Your Father’s people were proud but sensible. They did not require that their Lord marry a Lady; a woman of education whom he loved and would give him happiness was all they wished for their Lord.

And they were happy together; even happier when the couple welcomed you into the world and became a happy family. After a few years, your family had welcomed a new brother to in turns annoy and adore you.

You had the unique experience of growing up with the educations of both a healer and a lady. You could blend a poultice as well as you could host a dinner party. You had attended births with your Mama and welcomed guests into your home with your Papa. You could diagnose and treat an illness as well as inventory a household and settle accounts with merchants and villagers.

And today you were officially an adult. You would have a much more difficult time putting off suitors now, but while some had been kind, some handsome, some smart and a few funny, none had given you the feeling of rightness that you somehow knew you would feel when you met the right man for you.

Your maid tapped on your door and then opened it, not at all surprised to find you awake and deep in thought. “Happy Birthday, m'lady,” she said kindly.

“Since when am I ’m'lady,’ Ivetta?”

“Since you’re a woman grown,” she replied pertly. “It would be unseemly for me to continue to call you by your first name.”

“Then we shall be unseemly, because I do not need the person who got her behind whipped alongside mine dozens of times when we were children calling me m'lady. That just seems entirely too conceited,” you said with a laugh as you got out of bed and went over to the little table by the window where you took your tea each morning before you got dressed.

“What is that on your hand?” Ivetta asked.

You looked and saw vines on your palm and wrist. “I do not know,” you said, fear in your voice.

“I will fetch your Mother,” she said urgently.

“Please hurry,” you whispered fearfully.

An eternity later, though truly only a few minutes, your Mother appeared breathless with Ivetta to find you with your night gown yanked off of your left shoulder and arm as you followed the twining vines from your left hand to your chest over your heart.

“Mama! Have I been cursed?” you cried, weeping in fright.

“No, my darling,” she crooned. “You are not cursed, you have been blessed! You have been given  _La Vena Amoris!”_

“What is that?”

“You have a soulmate. Somewhere out there, there is a young man who just found the same mark on his left arm, and he is probably panicking just as much, for this is rare, indeed.”

“A soulmate? I have a soulmate?” you said in wonder.

“Yes, my darling. One day he will find you and you will fall madly in love. I could not be happier, daughter.”

* * *

 

Of course, just because you both generally knew of the other’s existence didn’t mean that you found each other immediately, or even knew who the other was. You simply had to count on fate and faith to lead you to each other.

In the meantime, life went on. You celebrated your birthday with a new sense of excitement.

You thought about him a lot, even though you didn’t want to get any preconceived notions in your head. Would he be tall or short? Dark or light? Would he be funny or serious?

One day, you were learning to brew a new potion with your Mother and asked her, “Mama, why have I never heard of  _La Vena Amoris_  before?”

“Soulmate magic is very, very old,” she replied quietly. “This knowledge has been passed down from mother to daughter for centuries, but you mustn’t speak of it. The pretender to the throne believes all magic to be evil. We must hope that King Caspian is able to take the throne that is rightfully his.”

“Should I hide this, Mama?” you asked fearfully.

“Perhaps that would be best if we are to be around people we do not know well.”

* * *

 

You were at supper with your family when a message arrived. Your Father would normally not interrupt the meal for a message but this one came from the palace.

“What is it, dear?” your Mother asked. There had been such unrest in the land that any news could be bad in nature.

“King Caspian has regained his throne. Aslan has returned and granted him his crown, but he wishes all Nobles and landowners to come and swear fealty.”

“Tis reasonable,” your Mother observed.

“We are to leave as soon as possible,” he finished.

“We?” you asked excitedly.

“Indeed,” your Father said. “We will all swear to the King.”

* * *

 

You packed with Ivetta, taking all of your best clothes but still worried that you would look a country mouse compared to other Noble’s daughters.

“I wish I had time to have a new gown or two made,” you said regretfully.

“Those other girls might have fancier gowns but they will have neither your beauty nor your kindness,” your maid reassured you.

“Thank you. You’re right, of course. I am being silly. I am certain I will not be in the King’s presence for more than a few moments, in any case.”

“I have heard he is very handsome,” Ivetta gossiped.

“It matters not. I have room for only one in my heart. I must be patient and find him.”

* * *

 

You were wearing your finest gown, and while you were not the richest dressed group in the antechamber, neither were you the poorest.

You had added lace to the sleeves of your gown to hide your _Vena Amoris_ , but that did not keep you from looking at the left hand of every male you saw, and apparently it was irritating your skin because your left arm and hand had an almost restless feeling to them.

“Y/N,” you Mother whispered. “For goodness sake, quit fidgeting.”

“I am sorry, Mama,” you whispered. “My…my left arm is itchy or crawly or – I know not how to explain it.”

“Do try and be still, darling, and we will look at it as soon as we return to our rooms.”

A footman came out and read your names from a scroll and asked you to follow him.

You were looking around and not at the King; your Father walked in front of you and you could not see around him without bobbing around like a child. You had been given manners and this was certainly the time to remember each and every lesson.

As your parents reached the riser upon which sat the throne, they gestured for you and your brother to come alongside them and you all knelt, your brother to your Father’s left and you to your Mother’s right.

Your  _Vena Amoris_  was positively tingling, now.

The King spoke. “I have not had the pleasure of meeting you in the past.”

“No, Your Majesty,” your Father replied strongly. “We are simple folk and do not spend much time at Court. This is the first my children have visited.”

“Are you prepared to swear fealty to Narnia?” he asked seriously.

“We are, Your Majesty,” your Father replied.

“Then repeat after me this oath:

“By Aslan, who has granted this throne, I will be to King Caspian faithful and true, and love all that he loves, and shun all that he shuns, according to Aslan’s law, and according to the world’s principles, and never, by will nor by force, by word nor by work, do ought of what is loatheful to him; on condition that he keep me as I am willing to deserve, and all that fulfill that our agreement was, when I to him submitted and chose his will.”

You all repeated the oath clearly and proudly.

“Rise, Lord Y/F/N. Please introduce me to your family.”

The King offered your Mother his right hand and you his left to help you stand. As you accepted his assistance, you placed your left hand in his and gasped as the vines on your arm came to life and twined around the King’s as vines also came from his left hand to gently wrap themselves around your hand, binding the two of you together as soulmates.

You looked up into the King’s eyes in shock; his expression mirrored yours.

“It is you?” he whispered, taking your right hand in his.

“It is. I cannot…hello!” you stammered.

Caspian smiled happily. “You are the other half of my heart.”

“And you are mine,” you said with an answering grin.

He brought your hand to his lips as the vines retracted back into your skins, but now there were flowers blooming along the vines.

“Lord Y/F/N, may I humbly ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage?” Caspian asked.

“But you have only just met!” your Father exclaimed.

“No, Papa,” you said softly, still looking into Caspian’s dark eyes. “I have known him forever. He is my destiny and I am his.”

“I feel this, too,” Caspian said. “It is as if we have been separated and have finally been brought back together, ever one being, reunited.”

“If this is what you truly want,” your Father said, still some doubt in his voice. “Are you sure, my pet?”

“Yes, I am as sure as I possibly can be. He is mine and I am his.”

Your Father looked at your Mother, who nodded at him with tears of joy in her eyes. “Then you have my blessing.”

And so you wed King Caspian X on a beautiful spring day, and though you had both been born in a world gone blind, the veil had been lifted from your eyes – and your hearts.

 


	3. Do Not Call Me Princess

Caspian had been a small child. He was not unhealthy or frail, just slender. When other boys began to fill out and gain muscle, Caspian just got taller and longer: long arms and legs, long skinny torso and neck. He looked a bit like a stork, to be honest.

Not that you minded, of course. Caspian was Caspian, your friend and playmate for as long as you could remember. You lived at the castle with your Aunt and Uncle after your own parents were carried off by sickness. Your cousin, their son, was just a year older than you and about the same age as Caspian, so the three of you had been playmates for as long as you could remember.

But lately, Caspian had been sad, hadn’t wanted to play. He spent all of his time with training with the boys and the swordmaster or in extra lessons with Doctor Cornelius.

Your cousin was off with his friends and you had reached an age where your guardians no longer allowed you to run with the herd of boys; now there were needlepoint and comportment lessons, music and dance, manners and flattery.

You were being taught to be a lady. You were thirteen and Caspian nearly fourteen. You could no longer roam the gardens or sneak into the forest to catch frogs in the creek.

But you missed Caspian. He didn’t run with the herd much, either. Your cousin Norez had told you that he was being picked on; that in fact, his Uncle Miraz, now the King rather than the Regent Protector, had encouraged the mistreatment of his nephew and heir.

And so, because Caspian was an extraordinarily beautiful child from birth, when he didn’t fill out as the other boys did, his slight form and aristocratic features had given a particularly cruel lad the idea to call him Princess Caspian.

You overheard them calling him the spiteful nickname, his head down in anger while they hurled insults at him.

His only response was, “Do not call me Princess,” spat from between gritted teeth.

When the barbed words failed to give them the desired result, the leader decided to take the relentless badgering to the next level and pushed Caspian.

The Prince may have been smaller, but he was a fierce fighter and had quickly gained the upper hand in the scuffle. Rather than take the beating he so richly deserved, however, his tormentor decided to enlist the aid of his toadies.

Caspian never stood a chance once three other lads joined the fray. Which was why, you supposed, you revealed your presence and dove into the mix.

Once the guards who had done nothing to stop the fight saw that a young woman was being pummeled, they hurried to pull the combatants apart.

“Oh, look at that! One of Princess Caspian’s ladies in waiting tried to help!” the ruffian called when you had all been separated.

Caspian gave you a look that said he would have rather taken the beating than this before you both walked away, heads down and looking for somewhere to lick your wounds.

* * *

You had retreated to the library, knowing that in the old dusty sections on the upper levels nobody would bother you. Unfortunately, you remembered too late that this was also Caspian’s favored retreat.

You stopped dead when you found him on the floor leaning against a shelf of old scrolls. You looked down and curtsied. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness.” You turned to walk away, head down, dejected.

“Wait, Y/N,” he whispered.

You stopped but didn’t turn around. “Of course, Your Highness.”

He stood and walked over to face you, took your hand in his and said, “When did I become ‘Your Highness’ and not 'Caspian?’” he asked sadly.

You looked up into his eyes, realizing that he was quite a bit taller than you now. “When you stopped calling me anything, I suppose,” you answered honestly. “I assumed that when you decided not to spend time with me anymore that I also lost the privilege of your first name.”

“I’ve hurt you,” he whispered.

You looked down again so that he wouldn’t see your anguish.

Caspian gently nudged your chin up with his fingers and saw the sadness in your expression as the tears in your eyes spilled over and left trails in the dirt on your cheeks from the brawl you had dove into with him. “I am so sorry that I neglected our friendship, Y/N,” he whispered.

You shrugged. “It is to be expected. At least that is what my aunt tells me.”

“Why is it to be expected?”

“Because we have different duties and you will be King. It is your duty to learn to be King and my duty is to learn to be some man’s property.”

Caspian laughed in surprise.

You gasped as you realized what you said. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness!”

Caspian took both of your hands in his and said, “Y/N, I am still just Caspian to you. I always will be.”

You smiled happily. “Thank you, Caspian,” you whispered.

“Thank you, Y/N. You are the only one of my friends who still cares about me,” he said sadly.

You impulsively threw your arms around him, hugging him close. He pulled you close and leaned his cheek against your hair.

It occurred to you both at the same time that perhaps your friendship may still exist but it had indeed changed.

You stepped back in his arms and looked into his eyes, seeing the same confusion and interest in his expression.

“Perhaps your Aunt was not entirely wrong?” he said with a smile.

“How so?” you asked, confusion warring with…something new?

“I care for you as much as always. I think you are my very best friend.”

You smiled. “As you are mine.”

Caspian took a deep breath and blurted, “But I also want to kiss you.”

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Is that what I am feeling?”

“I do not know, but I am,” he whispered.

You impulsively stood on tiptoes and briefly pressed your lips to his. When you pulled away, you were both grinning.

“Now I am certain that was what I was feeling,” he said, his voice carrying a husky note that you had never heard before, the sound of which sent a thrill through your body.

“As am I,” you said shyly.

You stared at each other with dopey expressions for a few moments when you heard your Aunt calling your name, and she did not sound pleased.

“I have to go,” you whispered. “If she finds us together she will think…oh.”

“She will think worse. Go. But…meet me here tomorrow at dawn?” he asked in a hopeful whisper.

“If I am able,” you said, then gave him another quick kiss.

Caspian grinned as he watched he’d you hurry off, hopeful that you did not get into too much trouble and that you would be able to meet him in the morning.

Suddenly all of the lessons on ruling and caring for a kingdom seemed easier to bear; you would be at his side and with luck, someday you would be his Queen.

* * *

You had been in a frenzy for days. First Caspian was missing, kidnapped by figures from stories told to frighten children; then he was feared dead, and finally shown to be fighting on the side of the mythical Narnians.

You did not consider them to be animals or filth, as was the general consensus amongst Telmarines. You had been welcomed into Doctor Cornelius’ study while Caspian took many of his lessons and therefore knew almost as much about Narnia as your beloved fiance.

Well. Secret fiance. He wanted to wait until he turned eighteen and took the throne before he announced your betrothal.

* * *

And it had been difficult a difficult task, indeed, to keep suitors at bay. Your dowry was rich and you were not unpleasant to look upon. Your Aunt and Uncle, while good guardians, did not wish to continue to see to your upbringing now that you were nearly seventeen. They were trying to arrange a marriage for you and you were having a devil of a time holding them off.

“It will just be a few more months, my heart,” he said one night as you strolled through the gardens, hand in hand.

“You do not know how much they pressure me,” you said in frustration. “Can we not announce our betrothal now? People our age are already married and starting to have children. How would it be so awful for us to be engaged?”

“I have not told you this,” he began hesitantly, “but…my Uncle has been behaving differently since my Aunt has had such a healthy pregnancy. I fear for your safety if anyone suspects that we are in love.”

“My love! Why have you not shared this worry with me?” you said, a bit miffed.

“Darling, I did not wish to concern you with what may be my imagination playing tricks on me,” he said soothingly. “Do not make that face, my love. All will be well. We have waited too long to be together to falter now.”

You stiffened your spine. “I do not falter, My Prince.”

“I know you do not, My Princess.”

You understood his motives but you were still angry at the situation. “Do not call me Princess. I have not yet been granted that title.” You curtsied before your love and took your leave from him wordlessly.

Caspian watched you go. He wondered if perhaps he was wrong in this, but he was so afraid that loving him would hurt you. He decided to consult Doctor Cornelius on the subject, hoping his tutor’s wisdom could put to rest his own worry.

* * *

His next visit with his tutor was a bit rushed to ask his opinion, however. His Aunt had been delivered of a healthy son and Miraz had sent men to kill Caspian and remove any obstacles between him and a legitimate right to the throne.

You were all Caspian could think of as he rushed after his tutor, and as he mounted the horse to escape he said, “My Lady Y/N!”

“If I can, Highness. She is safest not knowing.”

Caspian didn’t like it but knew that Doctor Cornelius was most likely right. Still, he ached for you and for the pain he would cause you in the coming days.

* * *

You hated yourself, for the last words you had given to your love had been said in anger. How could you be so selfish? He was constantly walking a tightwire and all you did was whine. It was no wonder he did not share his concerns with you. He had been right in his holding back, you had shown that clearly.

Your humors had been so off that your guardians had sent you to your family’s estate. You were not fit company for court. You could not even tell them why you were constantly on edge or weeping; it was the least you could do to honor your love for Caspian, now that he was who knew where.

And you may never see him again.

* * *

Caspian was in a constant state of controlled panic. He knew you well enough to know that you were in the same state, as well as feeling guilty for being cross with him the night he had escaped.

And oh, stars, he missed you.

When he had been at the castle, he hadn’t been able to see you whenever he wanted, but rarely did a day go by that he didn’t get to at least steal a kiss. Now he hadn’t seen you for months and it was wearing on him.

He ached for you. He longed for the day when he could openly declare his love for you, marry you, hold you close and calm your fears as you soothed his soul.

“What’s her name?” Edmund asked.

“I beg your pardon?” Caspian asked, guarded.

“The way you’re staring into the fire says you’re pining for someone,” he said with a shrug.

Caspian looked down quickly, trying to decide whether to trust Edmund. He sighed. “Her name is Y/N. We have been friends forever. She is beautiful and kind and funny and I miss her more than I can stand at times. She is my reason for living. And I know that should not be true as a King, but I cannot face the duties of ruling without her.”

“She lives at the castle?” Edmund asked.

“Yes. Her Uncle is one of my Uncle’s advisors,” Caspian answered bitterly.

“Then you will be with her soon, my friend.”

“But what if we were not as stealthy as we thought and Miraz has her? If I abandoned her to be jailed or tortured or what if she has been sold into marriage because I was not there to protect her? All she wanted was the security of a betrothal. I refused to give her even that much,” he said in disgust.

“Caspian, we will find her. Come. We’ll go talk to the others. If you get Lucy on your side the others will follow,” he said with a half-smile.

* * *

“Well of course we’ll help you find your love, won’t we?” Lucy asked Susan and Peter.

The two eldest Pevensies shared a look that said that they were not especially in the mood to have a pampered, lovesick noble brat underfoot, but if Caspian loved you…

“Of course we’ll rescue her,” Peter said.

“You’ll need to marry her right away,” Susan said pragmatically. “You mustn’t take chances with her virtue.”

“I would never do anything to disrespect her or damage her reputation. I love her more than myself,” Caspian said adamantly.

“Then let us rework the plan to include her rescue,” Peter said, somewhat irritated but understanding.

* * *

“What do you mean she is not here?” Caspian asked Doctor Cornelius, still in the cell and unlocking his chains.

“She sank into a depression when you escaped and her family sent her to her father’s estate.”

Caspian looked torn. “Then she is safe.”

“For the time being. You have to get out before Miraz learns you’re here.”

“He’s going to learn soon enough. We are giving him your cell.”

* * *

You were training with your Father’s retainers daily. You had trained with the boys when you were allowed to run with the herd and Caspian had arranged additional training in private when you were older. Since you had returned to your estate, whispers had reached your ears that Caspian was building an army to take the throne that was rightly his.

You would be ready to help when the time came.

Your Man at Arms, Sir Jorgez, was gathering able-bodied men from the villages surrounding the castle and you were walking the battlements with him as he pointed out the defenses he had in place.

“This is excellent. Should King Caspian have need of this castle as a stronghold, you have done all that can be to make things ready. Well done, Sir Jorgez.”

“Horses!” called a lookout in a turret.

You turned to look, seeing five horses on the horizon. “Your glass, Sir Jorgez?”

He quickly handed over the spyglass and you found the group in your sights. Could it be? “Caspian!”

You handed the glass to Sir Jorgez and ran down the steps, ordering the gate open, tempted to run out and meet him but knowing rationally that it would be safer for him to get inside the walls.

When he rode through the gates, he immediately jumped off his horse and you ran to meet him, throwing your arms around him and kissing him happily, tears of joy in your eyes.

“Oh, my love, I have been so worried about you,” he said in a choked voice.

“Me? Darling, your life has been in danger since the night you escaped! I have been beside myself!” you said. “But, come, you must be exhausted, my love. Let me take care of you and offer shelter and food to your companions.”

“Yes, I am sorry, allow me to introduce you to High King Peter, High Queen Susan, King Edmund and Queen Lucy of Narnia.”

“Oh. Goodness, I beg your pardons,” you said, dropping into a deep curtsy. “You are most welcome, Majesties.”

After they gave a chorus of greetings and thank yous, Caspian took your hand.

“My love, before we go within, I would ask you a question.”

“Of course?”

Caspian dropped to one knee. “My love, I have missed you every moment we have been apart. I do not know where all of this will lead us, but I know that I do not wish to walk another step of this path without you by my side. Will you do me the honor of being my wife? I do not know what I have to offer you other than my love and devotion until I walk this world no more.”

You took Caspian’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “I will gladly be your wife, partner, and when you have restored your throne, your Queen. You are the love of my life and I cannot even imagine spending it with anyone but you. I love you with my very being and always will.”

“Then let us be wed. I do not know what tomorrow brings but I know that I wish to face it with you as my wife.”

And so, there in the courtyard with your family’s retainers and Caspian’s Narnian followers in attendance, High King Peter married Caspian and you, and though there were bumps along the way, you truly lived happily ever after with your best friend.

And no one ever called either of you Princess.


	4. Just A Game

“No, this will not do,” you said to the fabric merchant. “It must shine like gold, not just be a shade of gold. And the wine must be a deep shade. Have you no brocade?” 

King Caspian’s birthday was in a few months and your Mother had given you carte blanche for your costume. You had already commissioned a long leather vest and belt for a pirate costume, along with a matching wide brimmed hat and mask, but the gown underneath had to be suitably rich. You were to be a successful pirate, after all.

Caspian had returned from his sea voyage a changed man, and not just in looks, though his beard and muscular physique were certainly evidence of his maturity. You found yourself looking at your childhood friend differently, now. You had always cared for him, of course. But now you found yourself in the unpleasant position of being one of dozens of women at Court who wanted to marry Caspian.

And you wanted him to look at you and see a woman, not the child he seemed to see when he glanced your way.

“Yes, that will do very well,” you said, pleased with the new selection. “Send that over to my dressmaker.”

* * *

 

“I do not see why we need have a ball for my birthday,” Caspian groused at you.

You were in his small sitting room where he came after dinner most nights. There were only a few close friends welcome in this part of the castle and you considered yourself lucky to be amongst that number, even if you knew he never looked at you any way but platonically.

“Because balls are fun, dancing is fun! You used to like to have fun occasionally, if I recall correctly, Caspian,” you said drily.

“I used to be a child with time on my hands, Y/N,” he returned just as drily. “Perhaps you’ve noticed that I have one or two more duties now?”

“Oh, pshaw. You delegated for ages while you were at sea, why can you not delegate a bit more now?”

“Because there is a difference between being away on a voyage to find my Father’s loyal vassals and wanting to have time to waste with you,” he snapped.

You stiffened and got to your feet, dropping into a deep curtsy. “I do beg your pardon, Your Majesty. May I take my leave?”

He got to his feet and pulled you upright, but you refused to meet his eyes when he spoke to you. “I am sorry, Y/N,” he said earnestly. “I did not mean it the way it sounded.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. May I please be excused?” you asked again, voice barely audible as you tried to control your tears.

“Yes,” he whispered, watching you turn and rush from the room. _Caspian, you idiot._

* * *

 

You hurried to your rooms, trying to keep your tears in check until you were behind closed doors. You were having a difficult time maintaining your composure and there were tears streaming down your cheeks by the time you made it to your chamber.

_He could not have been more plain_ , you thought as you sobbed your heart out.  _Spending time with me is a waste. As is loving him._

* * *

 

You avoided Caspian and made certain not to be alone in his presence after that. He had attempted to speak to you in private, but you saw no reason to discuss the situation further. He had made his feelings plain; there was no point in flogging the horse, as your Father was fond of saying.

“Mother, I would like to return to our estate for a while,” you said at breakfast a week or so later.

“But Caspian’s birthday is only a week away. If you went home you would have to turn around and return almost immediately,” she said in confusion.

“I do not wish to attend the ball,” you said quietly, eyes on your porridge.

“But your costume is so lovely!” she exclaimed.

“And expensive,” your Papa muttered.

“You’re staying here and going to the ball, and I will hear no more on the subject,” she pronounced.

“Yes, Mother,” you whispered.

* * *

 

You looked in the mirror and were pleased with your appearance, though you were showing considerably more bosom than you usually did.  _What a waste,_ you thought.  _All to show a man who finds me to be a waste of time that I am a woman grown._

When you had arrived there had been an announcement that the gentlemen would be attempting to guess who the ladies were under their masks, and if they guessed correctly the lady would owe the gentleman a kiss! 

There was music and laughter and dancing and the champagne was flowing freely, and you were perhaps the tiniest bit tipsy. You had been dancing every dance and you were hot and thirsty, and the champagne was bubbly and sweet. This was the best you had felt in weeks.

* * *

 

Caspian had, of course, recognized you as soon as you walked into the ballroom. No other woman in Narnia carried herself with such grace and dignity, and he would recognize the curve of your neck and the fullness of your lips anywhere. As the evening wore on, he watched you dancing and laughing with most of the young gentlemen in attendance. He also noticed them noticing your bosom and gritted his teeth in jealousy. 

You were laughing a good deal more than usual; perhaps you were happier now that he wasn’t keeping you by his side.

Perhaps you were happier now that he was no longer a part of your life.

* * *

 

Once you stepped out onto the balcony you dropped your facade of happiness. The party had been fun at first, but you realized that it was the first celebration you had ever been to that you hadn’t spent with Caspian. Seeing him dance with other girls, his graceful form and dark hair practically floating around the ballroom – well, it should have been you in his arms, at least some of the time.

Perhaps you should have accepted one of his apologies. Your parents had said that you were overreacting, but part of the reason you hadn’t reconciled was that it had become as painful to be around him as not to be around him. Loving him and not having that love returned was excruciating. When he had told you that spending time with you was a waste; well, that had just made it so clear that he would never see you as anything but a nuisance who had been a childhood playmate.

You knew that you needed to get over him and that could not be accomplished if you were in his presence whenever possible, as you had been before the argument. Now it was as if a chasm had sprung up between you, and you were the one blocking a bridge because rebuilding the connection would be too painful.

Perhaps someday you would get over him and there could be a casual acquaintanceship with him, but for now, you were overwhelmed with love and the emptiness of unrequited sentiment.

* * *

 

He watched you walking over by the doors that led to the balcony, and then a couple crossed in front of you and he lost sight of you. Panicking a bit, Caspian sat down his drink and stalked over to the edge of the ballroom, looking for you the whole while. He stepped out onto the balcony and caught a flash of the shimmering golden fabric of your skirt from the corner of his eye.

Walking over to stand next to you as you looked out over the gardens, Caspian said, “I was worried about you.”

You merely snorted.

“You have been drinking a great deal,” he observed.

“It is very warm in the ballroom,” you answered in a monotone. “And I have also been dancing a great deal.”

“True.”

“What do you want, Your Majesty?” you asked in a chilly tone.

He almost apologized again, but decided to try a different tack. “I’ve come to collect my prize.”

“I beg your pardon?” you asked in surprise.

“I recognized you. I believe you owe me a kiss,” he said reasonably.

“It is just a game, Caspian. A silly waste of time,” you replied dully.

“A game that I won. I wouldn’t want to have to announce that you are a welcher.”

You turned to him and narrowed your eyes at him. “Fine.” You leaned up and pecked him on the cheek. “Paid in full.”

“I do not think so, my love,” he said in a gruff voice. “I have wanted this for too long to settle for a kiss like you would give your grandmother.”

“Did you just…?” you asked hesitantly.

“Did I just what?” he replied as he pulled you against his chest and pulled your mask off, tossing it aside, then doing the same with his own.

“Did you call me your love?” you whispered, eyes wide and pulse racing. You had never seen Caspian act this way.

“I did,” he said, lips descending to yours, brushing against them softly, then building up pressure and groaning when you slid your arms up around his neck, fingers sliding through his hair as you melted against him.

You pulled apart and looked into each other’s eyes.

“I did not mean to hurt you,” he said quietly, caressing your cheek. “Please forgive me, darling.”

“Your Majesty –”

“Caspian,” he interrupted.

“Caspian,” you conceded, “you have called me your love and darling now.”

“Yes.”

“I realize that this may seem a rhetorical question, but –”

“I love you,” he interrupted again.

“Caspian, do you intend to let me complete a sentence?” you asked in an irritated tone.

“I am very nervous that if I let you complete a sentence you will tell me to take a long walk down a short path that ends on a high cliff,” he said with a self-deprecating smile.

“Only if there was very deep water to catch you,” you said with a half-smile. “And I happen to know you are an excellent swimmer.”

Caspian smiled and looked down in chagrin, then met your gaze with his dark, dark eyes. “Marry me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You are certainly throwing orders around this evening, Your Majesty!”

“I am a King. And it is my birthday…” he said with a grin.

You tapped your chin. “Well, perhaps if you asked me I would consider marrying you –”

Caspian looked at you seriously, intensely. “I beseech you, Y/N. I love you with all my heart and have for years. The future is bleak without you in it. I can picture no other woman as my wife, my Queen, the mother of my children. Please, share my life with me, for without you in it, there will be no joy.” He smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. “Please, marry me and be my happiness.”

You found that you still had your fingers tangled in Caspian’s hair and pulled him down for another kiss, feeling him smile against your lips. “Yes, Caspian. I love you, I adore you, I respect you, and after these kisses, I yearn for you.”

“I like the sound of that,” he said with a cheeky grin. “May I speak to your parents, my love?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, the indignities I shall suffer for you!” you said dramatically.

“What?” he laughed at your antics.

“I wanted to go to our estate and skip your party,” you said, a bit ashamed of your cowardice. “I couldn’t bear the thought of watching you chasing and being chased by every eligible female from Narnia.”

He looked at you with tenderness in his eyes. “There has been only one woman for me since we were both children. If I had been properly cared after by my guardian I would have sought a betrothal when we were still brats getting into trouble together daily.”

“The last few weeks of intermittent tears on my part notwithstanding, I am glad that it is our choice as adults. I did not ever believe I would be able to marry for love. You have given me my greatest heart’s desire.”

Caspian frowned. “I am so sorry I made you cry, love.”

You shrugged. “It is not like you did not try to apologize.”

He laughed. “I thought that returning the arrangement of the petals from the roses into a vulgarity was a lovely touch.”

“I do what I can,” you said with a playful curtsy. “Did you find the necklace?”

“On my hound? I did. She looked quite…fetching in it.”

You both laughed uproariously at his joke. “Do you see why I love you? You bring me so much happiness,” you said while caressing his beard.

He grinned. “Come, let us find your parents, I wish to wait no longer.”

“Or,” you drawled, making circles on his chest, “maybe we stay out here and kiss some more, get caught and have to have a rushed wedding?”

Caspian growled with his eyes closed at the light, almost ticklish sensations of your fingertips on his chest. “No, I want to do this right. We will be a Royal Love Match, and our story will not begin with a rushed wedding and an eight month baby.”

“Oh fine. I will plan a glorious wedding suitable for the King of Narnia. As long as I get to spend evenings with you in your sitting room again?”

“Our sitting room, my love. It has always been ours.”

“Then let us go and announce our betrothal. Tell me, what are my rights if one of those women throws herself at you now you are officially mine?” you asked with great interest.

“Jealous, my darling?”

“Envy is jealous of my ability to be possessive,” you deadpanned.

“Then as my betrothed, you have my permission to send away anyone who displeases you.”

“Do not displease me, husband,” you said with a wink.

Caspian graced you with the most beautiful, happiest, most loving smile you had ever seen.

You tilted your head curiously. “What is it, dearest?”

“I find that I like very much when you call me ‘husband.’”

You leaned against him again and nipped at his earlobe, then whispered, “My husband.”

Caspian shuddered and groaned. “I beg you not to do that again until our wedding night,” he groaned.

“Mmmm,” you moaned against his throat. “My maid has told me that wedding nights can be quite fun, whether they are preceded by a wedding or not.”

“Minx,” he said, setting you away from him so he could cool off. Love and lust were blazing in his eyes. “Do not tempt me too far. I am still merely a man.”

“You have never been ‘merely’ anything my love. You are extraordinary in all that you do, and I am so proud to be marrying you.”

Caspian held out his arm and said, “Then let us go and gain your parents’ blessing so that we may share our joy with the world.”

You linked your arm with his and with one last kiss before returning to the ball, you took your first steps together toward your future.

“My love?”

“Yes?” he replied.

“We must commend whoever thought of the game this evening.”

Caspian pretended to look shocked. “But you said, 'It is just a game,’ did you not?”

You giggled at his antics. “I love you, Caspian.”

“And I you, my darling.”

And you walked together into the ballroom, no more masks between you to hide your feelings from one another – or to hide your happiness from the world.


	5. Perfectly Imperfect

“How was that?” Caspian asked nervously.

“Perfect!” you lied supportively.

He narrowed his eyes at you. He could always tell when you were lying.

“Let me see that,” he growled, snatching the parchment from your hand. “ _Perfect?_  Y/N, I got most of it completely wrong!”

“Caspian,” you said soothingly, “it was not that bad! You are getting closer with each recitation, I promise. It will be perfect.”

He threw himself into a chair in his study. You were one of his oldest and dearest friends and it was bordering on improper for you to be alone with him in his study, but Doctor Cornelius knew how nervous his former student could be when it came to public speaking and he had depended on you to help Caspian through memorizing his oath recitation for his coronation.

“Oh, as perfect as I just got it? That perfect, Y/N?” he snapped.

You narrowed your eyes this time, reaching over to smack him in the head. “You may be about to be crowned King but let us not forget who knows all your secrets, shall we? It would be most unfortunate indeed if the entire Court happened to hear about the time you lost a bet and had to walk through the courtyard in one of my dresses.”

“You would not dare!” he accused.

“Hmm. I suppose not. Besides, do I want everyone to know that you looked better than I did in it and actually received several approving looks –”

“Fine!” he interrupted, trying not to laugh.

“You made a lovely lady, Caspian,” you said with a grin.

Caspian sighed, then reached over to give your hand a squeeze. “I am sorry to be cross with you, dear one. I loathe having so many eyes on me.”

You pulled him to his feet and hugged him, feeling the tension and stiffness leave him as you held him. Caspian had been orphaned so young and his nannies were instructed by his cruel uncle to give him the bare necessity affection, so when you held him he absorbed the touch like a sponge.

You stepped back and said, “Your secrets are safe with me, Caspian. You know that. Your ribs, however, are not, so let us try again and if you make a muck of it I shall be forced to tickle you.”

“Forced to? Truly? Will you get no pleasure from it?” he asked suspiciously.

You looked up mischievously, as if pondering whether you would enjoy it. In truth, you would enjoy being so close to him for more than a chaste hug. Your feelings had evolved from friendly to romantic a few years ago, but Caspian did not return the feeling, so you had pledged yourself to him in friendship until he found a Queen.

You would still be his friend then, of course, but knew that you would naturally move down in the hierarchy of his heart. It was only to be expected.

“I might enjoy it from the sheer torture standpoint. However, it would be a great sacrifice for me to have to touch you so. You might make a pretty girl but it is so unfortunate how unattractive you are as a boy!” you teased.

“Hush, you,” he said, his grin bright and changing his beautiful countenance to boyishly handsome. “We should get married. We could announce the engagement right after the coronation. Then people could have the double benefit of the knowledge that they will have at least one competent ruler as well as making them forget my utter abomination of my oath.”

“Yes, Caspian! It is every maiden’s dream to be proposed to as a distraction,” you said drily.

Caspian smiled gamely, but inside he was beating his head against the wall. _Did you really just ask the girl you love to marry you as a distraction from what a disaster you are? Brilliant, Caspian._ “There are far worse things than being married to one’s best friend, I should think,” he said quietly.

You smiled sharply. “I will keep it in mind if I am unable to find a man to wed me without plugging his nose,” you said sarcastically. “I think you need to study this on your own for a while. Perhaps I am a distraction today, as well.”

* * *

You knew as soon as you left his study that you should not have left Caspian to his own devices. He would be even more nervous and prone to error. When you passed Doctor Cornelius on his way to check up on Caspian, you stopped and simply breathed for a moment.

Caspian was nervous. Since the Pevensies had returned to their home, you and Doctor Cornelius were his only confidantes, and the good Doctor was almost certainly lecturing Caspian this very moment.

You turned to return to Caspian. Perhaps you could take him for a stroll and help him clear his head.

“You did what?” you heard Doctor Cornelius say in disbelief as you neared Caspian’s study.

“I asked Y/N to marry me as a distraction,” Caspian said, shame in his voice.

_I’m not_  that  _bad a choice for Queen!_

“I thought we agreed that you would wait to propose to her until after the coronation?” Cornelius said rhetorically.

“I know! She was just so lovely and we were laughing and she makes me so happy and I wanted to kiss her!” Caspian rambled.

_Kiss me? Kiss ME?_

You did the brave thing at that moment and beat a hasty retreat. Well, discretion is the better part of valor, after all. It was most discreet of you to leave without Caspian and Cornelius knowing you had overheard their conversation, therefore it was the valorous thing to do.

_Caspian has plans to propose to me?_

* * *

You hurried to your chambers, heart fluttering madly. Caspian wanted to marry you. He wanted to kiss you and he wanted to marry you! You had almost given up hope of him ever seeing you as anything but a friend. You had all but been raised together with him being an orphan and your Mother having passed away of a sudden wasting sickness.

Caspian had been your refuge at that time. Your Father had been grieving and had little idea of what to do with a young child, and a girl at that. Though only a year older than you, Caspian had held you and wiped away your tears, never teasing you for crying as other children did.

Eventually your Father had been able to pull himself together and you had become his Treasure, his pet name for you. The only reason you were even living here at present was that your Father was rooting out rebels around your estate; he had been jailed by Miraz for protesting his ascension to the throne rather than Caspian. You had been kept as a ‘guest’ for all of the time since Caspian had escaped.

Your Father and Doctor Cornelius had both been punished for their support of the rightful King; now they were honored for the same, and your Father trusted them with your care while he secured his part of Caspian’s Kingdom.

And along the way, you had fallen in love with Caspian. The time when he had escaped and you had no knowledge of his whereabouts, or indeed if he was alive, was the worst time of your life. When he had returned, your welcome had been a bit more than proper, but luckily you were so close before that no one thought to question the overly emotional and affectionate greeting.

Would you be awkward in his presence now? It had been difficult enough to hide your feelings, would you be able to look at him without swooning and blushing now?

You decided that it would be best to postpone returning to him until dinner. You needed time to get your thoughts and feelings under control. After dinner the two of you usually spent the evening together reading or playing cards or games and you needed to have a clear head to be alone with him.

* * *

You thought about it all afternoon and decided that tonight you were taking special care with your appearance and getting this engagement done. Now that you knew he was serious about wanting to be with you, there was no reason not to get engaged. You did not know Doctor Cornelius’ reasoning behind waiting, but you could see no reason.

As you were waiting for your maid to help you into the gown you had chosen for dinner there was a knock at your door. A letter from your Papa!

Oh. He wanted you to return home.

Now you definitely needed to take matters into your own hands. If you left things to the men you would still be waiting for Caspian when you were in your dotage.

* * *

You had already planned to take special care with your appearance, but now you stepped it up. The overdress that you chose was a particularly good color for you and the chemise underneath was neither sheer nor opaque. You wore the shoulders down with no adornment of jewelry to distract the eye from your exposed skin.

You swept into the small dining room and Caspian practically ran over to greet you, taking your hand and looking at you almost fearfully.

“I am a well-known imbecile, Y/N. Please forgive my foolishness from earlier,” he said quietly but earnestly.

“Do not be silly, dear one,” you said, placing your hand on his cheek gently.

Caspian gulped a bit at your touch, and his eyes darted down to your dress. “Thank you,” he whispered, placing his hand over yours and then pulling it to his lips for a kiss. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Caspian. Will you walk with me after dinner? We must talk,” you said with a smile.

“Of course. Is something amiss?” he asked with obvious concern.

“Not really. I received a letter from Papa.”

“I received one as well. I am fortunate to have his support. He has quelled the rebels and has returned to your home.”

“And he wants me to return, as well,” you told him. “Did he also tell you that?”

“No!” he exclaimed in distress. “I mean…of course I’m sure you want to return to your home…”

Doctor Cornelius and a few advisers who were joining the King for dinner appeared at that point. “We will discuss this after dinner, yes?” he said with a bit more control.

You nodded with a small smile, giving his hand a squeeze. He did not relinquish his hold, though, keeping your hand in his until he helped you into your chair and took his own seat next to you.

He looked at you frequently throughout dinner, standing quickly when everyone was mostly finished.

Holding out his hand to you, he said, “You wanted to talk to me?”

You smiled and nodded, taking his hand and standing.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said, avoiding the meaningful gaze of Doctor Cornelius.

You hooked your arm through Caspian’s and walked with him to the gardens. The sun was setting and the view was spectacular, yet neither of you seemed to notice. You both caught each sneaking peeks at the other, then looking away quickly in embarrassment.

“When does your Father wish you to return home?” Caspian finally said quietly.

“He wants me to return home with him after your coronation,” you whispered, not meeting his eyes.

“Well,” he said cheerfully, “that settles it, then, I shall cancel the coronation and remain an uncrowned King. That way it will not matter if I am completely hopeless at memorizing the oath.”

“Honestly, Caspian, can you not be serious for one moment?” you said with no real rancor, then hesitated. “Will you miss me?”

“No,” he said certainly.

“Oh,” you whispered. Had you heard incorrectly? Here you were dressing for him and touching him excessively! You pulled your hand away from his.

He took it back and kissed it. “I will not miss you because I will not be without you.”

“If my Father wishes me to return home I must go, Caspian.”

He swallowed nervously and said, “Of course.”

You stood in silence for a while, you hoping he would say something while he desperately searched for the words to say what he wanted.

“Caspian?” you whispered.

“Yes?” he answered hoarsely.

“I’m sorry I became cross with you earlier,” you said quietly. “I regretted it almost immediately and came back to tell you so.”

“Oh?” he said with a bit of terror in his voice.

“Mm hmm. I heard you speaking to Doctor Cornelius and did not want to interrupt.”

“You – you did?”

“Yes. Caspian, did I hear correctly that you intend to propose to me?” you asked boldly.

Caspian’s eyes grew wide for a moment, but then he straightened his spine and said, “I love you, Y/N. Not just as a friend, though that as well. And I know that I am a colossal blockhead at times, and that my marriage proposal today was idiotic –”

“Caspian,” you interrupted, taking his hands in yours and looking up into his eyes. “You have grown into a man to be proud of. No, you are not perfect, but my love, you are perfectly imperfect, and therefore perfect for me.”

Caspian allowed hope to bloom within his heart. “Did you just call me your love?” he asked.

“I did, my love, because you are,” you said with a soft smile.

“Then,  _my_  love, would you do me the honor of forgetting my earlier proposal so that I may propose to you with all the love that you deserve and the respect that I hold for you?”

You grinned. “Darling Caspian, I would be honored to forget your proposal.”

Caspian smiled happily and dropped to one knee, right then and there. “Y/N, you have been my best and most trusted friend for as long as I can remember. As our friendship has evolved, so have my feelings for you. In addition to the love and respect I feel for you as my lifelong friend, I now feel the love and desire for you as a woman. I can think of no other with whom I could ever wish to share my life. Will you please do me the honor of being my wife and Narnia the duty of being her Queen?”

“Oh, my love, yes. With all my heart, yes!” you said, eyes welling with tears of joy at Caspian’s devotion.

He surged to his feet and kissed the back of your hand, then leaned forward to brush his lips across yours gently.

Tipping his forehead to rest against yours, he closed his eyes and said, “I was so frightened of losing you, my heart.”

“You cannot, dear one. Not that we will never be cross with one another, of course,” you said with a smile.

“I am imperfect, after all,” he replied with a grin.

“ _Perfectly_  imperfect, yes. But never fear losing my love, darling. I give it to you freely and forever, in this life and the next.”

“I feel I can do anything with you at my side,” he said happily.

“Hmm, perhaps even memorize your Coronation Oath?” you teased gently.

“Will you help me?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“I will. In fact, I am thinking of a system of rewards that involves kisses,” you said grandly.

“Let us practice now!” he entreated.

“Practice your oath or kissing?”

“Well, do you not think your kisses should be proficient before we move on to something as complicated at memorizing words?” he suggested.

“You make a sound argument, my love. First we kiss, then we go and write to my Father, yes?”

“Yes,” he said, kissing you softly. “I could not be happier, my darling. Let us go and write to my future Father-in-law.”

“Hmm one more kiss,” you breathed.

“Always, my love,” he said, and he pulled you close and let your love envelope you both in the peace of knowing you had found your true love.


	6. A Perfect Storm

Your marriage was all but a formality. That was what your Papa said, anyway.

You had been excited about your betrothal at first; after all, you were to wed a young, handsome king. That was more than most girls could ever even dream of; you were being handed a life of comfort on the arm of Narnia’s most eligible bachelor.

But the reality was that he did not want to marry you; he had made that more than clear with his absolute lack of interest in you. Every time you had attempted to converse with him, he had said the bare minimum and found an excuse to leave your presence as quickly as possible. The wedding was but one month hence and it was still like he was a stranger.

You felt foolish for hoping to grow to love your husband someday. Oh, you knew that this was a good match for him politically, but you still had harbored girlish hopes of winning his heart. Indeed, when your Father had first left you at Cair Paravel once your betrothal had been announced, you had looked for every opportunity to engage him. With every rebuff, however, your hope for a loving marriage dimmed until now you simply hoped to get pregnant quickly after the wedding so that you would not have to suffer each other’s company any more than necessary.

* * *

Of late, His Majesty had been sending notes requesting your presence at dinner and had escorted you to a few social events. He had even sent messages for you to walk in the gardens with him after the evening meal a few times. You could only assume that your lack of warmth for each other had been noted and he wanted to create a facade of happiness. Perhaps he was concerned that your Papa would withdraw his approval of the match. You knew not his motives, only that the meetings were becoming more uncomfortable with each passing day.

You had grown up with the knowledge that women of your rank rarely married for love; romantic ninny that you had been, you thought that you would be the exception to that rule.

Now you knew better. If there were exceptions to the rule, one had not been granted to you.

* * *

In the spirit of the earlier invitations, you assumed, you found yourself riding with His Majesty. You were an excellent horsewoman, having been placed in a saddle barely after you had taken your first steps. You went riding every morning before breakfast, usually with a groom as an attendant.

Today your companion was the King, but you had no more conversation with him than you ever did the grooms that followed you. You had given up on any sort of friendship with your future husband. To be honest, this outing was a bit of a shock; it was just this side of decent for the two of you to be out riding unaccompanied. You supposed that being the King did give him some latitude with etiquette; he could play fast and loose with your reputation when he intended to wed you in a few weeks. Perhaps this was even his way of guaranteeing that your Father did not end your engagement.

If the two of you conversed, you could ease his mind on that topic; your Father would never place your happiness above the increased political influence he stood to gain from your marriage. Your Papa loved you, you supposed, as much as a nobleman ever cared for a daughter, but he had never been anything but plain that your value lie in the connections that could be made through your marriage.

Still, on the rare occasions when His Majesty gifted you with a smile, it was like the sun peeking through the clouds. At those times, you recalled when his offer of marriage had been so joyous; you had believed that the times that you had met him and he had shared his smiles with you that he shared the fluttery beginnings of romance that you felt for him.

You looked over at him now and saw what you could only assume was the wrinkled brow of a man who did not wish to be where he was. What had you done to gain his displeasure? You had always given him what you thought he had wanted. When you first came to Cair Paravel, you had given him your hope and laughter; now you gave him your silence and his privacy. What more could you do to please him?

You rode for a few more minutes, absently pondering the mystery of your fiance. Perhaps his affections laid elsewhere and he resented you for being his betrothed? You supposed there were a million things about you that could displease him, but there was little you could do about it if he did not make you aware of the issue.

You were a fair distance into the forest near the castle when the first drops of rain hit you. You looked up in surprise to see the sky had darkened ominously. You had been so lost in thought that you did not notice the angry storm clouds rolling across the sky. In fact, you did not even know where you were. Your sense of direction had never been nurtured as you had never been alone.

You looked over to His Majesty and heard him mutter a mild curse word. Still, you were surprised as he had never been anything but perfectly decorous in your presence. “My apologies, My Lady, it would appear that my wandering mind has led us far from home and into a storm.”

You looked around and back at him. “Shall we return?”

He shook his head. “I do not like the look of those clouds. I think that we should seek shelter.”

Just then, a great boom of thunder sounded, causing the horses to stomp and snort.

“Come. There is a supply shed not far from here. We can take refuge there until the worst of it passes.”

You simply nodded and he took off, moving steadily but not quickly; the rain was coming down in sheets and he was concerned both with you losing sight of him and of the winds that had picked up knocking branches loose from the trees, which could easily trip up a horse.

By the time you found the shed you were both completely drenched and shivering. It had been a brisk spring day when you left, but the storm had brought with it cold rain and cutting wind.

“Go inside, I will see to the horses,” he shouted above the wind. You nodded your head and went into the shed. You had no intention of being noble and helping him; your hair was plastered to your face, your hat long gone, and your riding habit was sodden, adding even more weight to the ridiculous yards of fabric in your skirts.

You were grateful to be out of the wind and rain, but the shed was merely a lean-to and did little more than shelter you from the elements. It was as cold inside as it had been out and you had no means of building a fire. You stood in the middle of the room helplessly, cursing your ladylike upbringing that gave you no survival skills at a time like this.

The door slammed open and His Majesty came in with a gust of wet, leafy wind and then wrestled shut the door.

He looked around and saw you shivering. “My Lady, you are freezing. I will build a fire as quickly as possible.”

“Th-thank you, Your Majesty,” you said through chattering teeth.

Luckily there was ample firewood and kindling and His Majesty had thought to bring in his saddlebags, so he had the means with which to gain the spark to start a flame. “Come,” he said softly.

You moved over to the fire and he took your hands in his, peeling your wet gloves from your hands and trying to warm them by rubbing them between his. “We must get you warm. Come, let me find you something to wear and remove that dress. You are actually making a puddle from the runoff,” he said quietly.

“I am sorry, Majesty,” you whispered.

“Nonsense, no need to apologize,” he said in surprise. “I simply want to get you warm.”

“You are also wet, Your Majesty. We should see to your comfort first.”

“Do not be ridiculous,” he scoffed as he moved off to rummage around until he could find some old blankets. “These will have to do. They are not much but they will be better than being wrapped in a wet dress.”

“I could not,” you said, scandalized.

“Please,” he said quietly. “I could not bear it if you fell ill because of my carelessness.”

“As you wish,” you acquiesced. “But I cannot undo it myself.”

“What?” he asked, “You ah – what?”

“This habit buttons down the back, I cannot reach them. My maid helps me.”

“I - I see,” he said, thankful for the dark as he felt his bearded cheeks flushing.

Seeing his hesitation, you said, “You’re right, of course, Your Majesty. I thought you wished me to disrobe. I will be fine.”

“No,” he objected, walking around behind you. “I will help you.”

He began to unbutton your gown and you felt an odd tingle the first time his fingers touched your bare skin. At your indrawn breath, he said, “I beg your pardon. My fingers are cold and these buttons are so tiny.”

“It is fine, Your Majesty. Soon it will all be yours to do with as you wish,” you said in a resigned voice.

His hands stopped moving briefly, then began again. “And that displeases you?”

“What?” you replied, then hastily added, “Your Majesty?”

“That we will be wed. You seem to be disinterested. You barely speak to me,” he said sadly.

“I beg your pardon, Majesty, I was unaware that you wished to speak with me.”

“There,” he said. “Your buttons are undone.”

“Can you also unlace my corset? Please? I am soaked to the skin.”

Caspian cleared his throat. The fire was certainly warming the shed up faster than he expected. “Of course.”

His hands shook a bit as he loosened your laces and you groaned. “Oh, dear,” you whispered. “That was so very unladylike. My apologies, Your Majesty.”

“Not at all.” Should he tell you that he longed to see if he could draw that sound from you while he laid between your thighs? Perhaps not, but the member lying between his own thighs was quite interested.

You turned to face him, wet dress held up but the soaked chemise underneath your corset was plastered to the tops of your breasts. Stars but you were beautiful. He had no idea why, but you had grown distant to the point of coolness since your arrival. When you had first come to live at Cair Paravel with your maiden aunt, he had been enchanted by your joyous laughter and easy smile.

It had not been overly long until your joy seemed to fade away. To this day, Caspian had no idea what had caused your happiness to dim; he only knew that he desperately missed the radiance of your smile in his home.

He felt foolish falling for you so quickly. He was a man of the world, he had been to war, he had sailed to the end of the world and met Aslan; yet a smile from you stole his reason. One joyful giggle from you and he was rendered speechless.

He missed something that he had only had a glimpse of, but he had offered for your hand because he believed that you were the woman to stand by his side and bring him joy when the duties of the Kingdom wore him down. Now, for some reason he did not understand, you were like a sadder, unhappier version of the girl he had wanted to marry.

He shook his head and unbuttoned his doublet, then pulled the tunic over his head to lay in front of the fire to dry.

“Oh,” you said softly when you returned, wrapped in a thin blanket that was about the size of a bath towel; you were only covered from breasts to thighs.

Caspian was completely caught off guard. “Oh,” he echoed, taking in your smooth, bare skin and wanting nothing more than to run his hands and lips over every inch.

You stared at each other for a moment until he noticed that you were still shivering. “I beg your pardon, My Lady, please come closer to the fire.”

You realized that you had been staring at his muscular chest and the very interesting bit of hair below his navel. Stars, he was a beautiful man. You lowered your eyes and said, “Of course. My apologies.”

You moved closer to him to get nearer the fire and he felt like he could not quite catch his breath. “Why do you apologize?” he asked curiously.

“I was staring, Your Majesty,” you whispered, eyes on his feet. He had curiously long toes, but then you didn’t not recall ever seeing a man’s bare feet before.

“As am I,” he whispered in return. “You are a very beautiful woman.”

You looked up quickly. “I did not know that you thought so, Your Majesty. Is that why you chose to marry me?”

“No,” he said, confused.

“Oh,” you answered quietly, not sure what else to say.

Caspian looked disheartened. “We are so very distant. I had hoped we would have a closer marriage,” he said regretfully.

“Your Majesty,” you began, joining him in his confusion, “you have never given any indication that you wished us to be friends?”

“Did you not receive the letter I sent you when I offered for your hand?” Caspian asked, expression troubled.

“No,” you answered. “I received no letter. My Father simply told me that you had offered for me and that we were to be wed.”

Caspian leaned his head back for a moment, eyes closed in frustration. “My Lady, I wrote to you asking if you wished to be my wife and my Queen. I did not desire to force you into marrying me by asking your Father; I hoped you would want to come to Cair Paravel to see if we were suited to marry. Your Father answered that you did want to marry me but you could not come here until we had set a date.”

You smiled, the small flicker of hope within your heart glimmering a bit brighter. “Really?”

Caspian looked even more confused. “This pleases you?”

“Not the part about Papa withholding your letter, though it does not surprise me,” you answered, taking a step closer. “But the part about you wanting to get to know me, that pleases me very much indeed, Your Majesty.”

He took a tiny step closer to you. “Call me Caspian, if you wish.” He reached out and took your hand in his.

“Caspian,” you whispered.

He smiled. “I – forgive me, My Lady, I find myself unable to form sentences when you smile at me.”

“Then you do not dislike me?” you asked happily.

“Oh, dear one, is that what you thought?” he asked, anguished.

You looked down and nodded. “I could not understand why you never spoke to me, even when we went walking in the gardens.”

Caspian took your other hand in his and dropped to one knee. “My Lady, I have treated you most ill with my bashful ways. Please accept my humble apology if I hurt you in any way.”

“Caspian,” you said softly, pulling him to his feet, then so close to you that your clasped hands were pressed between your bodies. “I believe that all of your many transgressions can be absolved with a kiss.”

Caspian grinned. “I would be a fool not to accept such a lenient punishment.”

“Oh ho, punishment, is it?” you laughed.

“No, My Lady,” he said, leaning down and brushing his lips across yours gently. “Tis not a punishment, but an honor.”

You pulled your hands from his grasp and slid them up his chest while his hands want to your hips. “If I am to call you Caspian, should you not call me by my name?”

He whispered your name before he leaned in for another kiss. This one was more than a brush, and when he nipped at the bow of your lip with his teeth, you moaned a bit and he deepend the kiss.

He pulled back and you were both short of breath, your fingers twining in his hair as he ran his hand up and down your leg, which was somehow wrapped around his thigh.

“Oh, my,” you whispered. “Is this what you meant when you said you had hoped for a closer marriage?”

Caspian saw the twinkle of mischief in your eyes and grinned, then lowered your leg to the floor. “While in one way this far exceeds my aspirations, I had also hoped for a friend, a partner.”

You reached for his cheek tentatively, pleased when he turned into your touch. “I had dreams of marrying for love. Despite my Father’s best attempts, I feel like it may still be possible.”

Caspian turned his head slightly and kissed your palm before saying, “As do I.” Then he looked you in the eyes before speaking again, as if to gather his courage. “My darling.”

You positively beamed at his endearment. Standing on tiptoes, you kissed him gently, earning a happy smile from Caspian. “The storm does not seem inclined to let up any time soon. Should we try to get comfortable by the fire? Perhaps we can make up for the time we lost to shyness and insecurity?”

“Do you mean talking or with kisses? Because I feel like we lost time on both,” he teased, leading you over to the fire where he had placed some empty grain bags on the floor for the two of you to rest upon.

“Apparently you shed your shyness along with most of your clothes,” you observed. You smiled. “I like it.”

Caspian returned your smile. “The lack of shyness or clothing?”

You reached out and ran your fingertips down his chest, causing him to inhale sharply. “Oh, I think both.”


	7. Secrets

It was rumored that you were going to join a Holy Order and spend your life in service to Aslan. There were not many women who took vows as yet; it had only been a few years since Caspian had taken the throne and the worship of Aslan had been made legal again.

Caspian had noticed you as soon as he met you when your father brought you to Cair Paravel to serve on the King’s Council. You were everything he had ever dreamed of in a wife and Queen, but your devotion to Aslan had been established early. Caspian could only pine for you in secret while putting off his duty to marry and produce an heir for Narnia.

You were devoted to Aslan, of course. Your family had worshiped in secret for generations, yet your desire to take vows in the Holy Order we’re not entirely selfless; you were in love with Caspian, and if you could not be wed to him, then you would be bride to no man.

And you believed that you were not worthy of King Caspian, so you kept your love for him secret. Your parents respected your decision to take vows, though they believed that you would find more happiness with a husband and family and did not know of your love for Caspian.

You had not shared your love for Caspian with anyone but Aslan in your prayers. You had your doubts of whether you should take the vows while you loved Caspian so deeply, yet you knew you could bear the touch of no other.

In your dreams, Aslan had told you many times that you were not being true to yourself and that Caspian cared for you in return, but you dismissed them as dreams, unable to believe that you were important enough to have gained the attention of either King.

* * *

Caspian had returned from his voyage on the Dawn Treader to find his Father’s Lords, and all he could think of was seeing you. He hurried through the ceremony and procession welcoming him home, looking about for you as much as he could without being rude.

When he returned to Cair Paravel and saw your parents among his Nobles waiting to greet him, he headed straight over to them with a smile, looking around the vicinity for you.

After accepting their bow and curtsy and inquiring after their health, Caspian finally asked what he truly wanted to know. “And your daughter, Lady Y/N? Is she well?”

“You are kind to remember her, my King. She is well,” your father replied.

“Of course. Is she here?” he asked, trying to seem casual but worrying that he failed miserably.

“She is here at Cair Paravel, Your Majesty, though she is not here at the reception.”

“Oh,” Caspian said, disappointed.

“Would you like me to fetch her, Your Majesty?” your Mother asked.

“No, I would not want to force her to be where she does not wish to be,” he said, a bit sad that you were not anxious to see him.

“Your Majesty, I believe Y/N is most pleased that you have returned. She did not believe that you would miss her,” she said quietly.

“Why would she think this, My Lady?” Caspian said, mystified.

“Perhaps we should discuss this in private,” your Father interrupted.

“Of course,” Caspian said quickly. “I do not mean to pry. But I do look forward to seeing Lady Y/N again.” He nodded and took his leave, embarrassed.

“What were you thinking?” your Father asked your Mother.

“I’m thinking that perhaps the King lives our daughter as much as she loves him,” she replied with a smile.

Your Father looked at your Mother, surprised.

Your Mother simply nodded, then said, “I will return with Y/N as quickly as possible.”

* * *

You were pacing. You had gotten a glimpse of the King through the window when he returned but that was it. Part of you regretted not going to the reception, but you had no wish to watch all the beautiful maidens throwing themselves at him. He would no doubt marry one of them and you did not wish to witness a moment more of the courtship than necessary.

You had made peace with your decision many months ago, why were you having so many doubts now? But of course, you knew why; Caspian had returned. It was far easier to stand by a decision when there was no challenge. Now that the King had returned, there was the greatest temptation.

Yet it was no true temptation. There had to be an offer before there was a choice, so the only option available to you was that of holy vows.

You stiffened your spine. It had been a weakness to wait until he returned. You needed to take your leave and your vows as soon as possible. To stay near him, loving him in secret but never being able to be with him: that would be torture.

There was a quick knock followed by your Mother’s entrance. “Hello, darling,” she said.

“I did not expect you to return so soon,” you said. “Is King Caspian well?”

“Yes, he looks well. The sea agrees with him. Perhaps when he weds he will take his bride for a voyage on their honeymoon?”

“Will she not be lucky?” you asked through gritted teeth, confirming your Mother’s suspicions.

“Come, dear, he’s asked after you. You should pay your respects to the King,” she said, a bit of an order in her tone.

“Mama, I do not wish to go,” you said quietly. “I will see him at dinner. I am certain he will not miss me.”

“And I am just as certain that he will. Come, daughter, and greet your Sovereign,” she said, more than a bit of an order in her voice this time.

You looked up at the bite in her tone. “Yes, Mama.”

* * *

You accompanied your Mother to the ballroom where the reception was being held, gritting your teeth in anticipation of all of the female attention he was no doubt receiving, and that you did not wish to view.

When you entered the room, your eyes sought him and found him looking at you, a beautiful smile gracing his handsome face. He excused himself from the people with whom he was speaking and made his way over to you. You were in shock, wondering if you were dreaming that King Caspian was seemingly blazing a path through adoring courtiers to come to…you?

As he came ever closer, your breath sped up. You had not taken your eyes from him once, though he had needed to look away to make his path, but he looked at you frequently as if to verify your location.

He arrived before you, stopping as you just staring awkwardly at each other for a moment until your Mother discreetly elbowed you into motion.

You curtsied deeply. “Welcome home, Your Majesty.”

Caspian took your hand in his and said, “It is most good to be home, My Lady,” before bowing over your hand and lightly kissing the back.

“You’ve grown a beard,” you whispered, a dopey smile on your face.

He ran a hand over his cheek as if just remembering that it was something he decided he liked while he was at sea. “I did. Do you not like it? I can shave.”

“Your Majesty, perhaps you and Y/N could take a walk and catch up later,” your Mother said quietly to remind the two of you that there was a rather large audience.

“Yes, there is much I would say to you. Will you step into the gardens with me, My Lady?” he asked.

“Now?” you whispered.

“I have wanted to say this since before I left. I do not wish to wait a moment longer,” he said fervently.

“Yes, of course,” you agreed, taking his proffered arm.

You walked silently, nervously until you reached the gardens.

“The gardens have changed a great deal in the time I was gone,” he said in surprise. “So much happened that kept me busy or in danger that much of the time went by quickly. But the times that I was alone with my thoughts, they inevitably turned to you.”

“Me?” you squeaked.

“Do you truly not know?” he asked in surprise.

“I beg your pardon, My King, but no, I do not know.”

Caspian began pacing, stopping a few steps away to speak. “I know that you planned to take vows and join the Holy Order. Is this still your plan?” he asked anxiously.

You looked down. “It has been – yes, there is only one man for whom I would ever forsake the Order.”

“Oh.”

You shook your head. “No, that wasn’t entirely honest. There is one man whom I have loved in secret for years, yet I could not be with him. He is too far above me. Therefore, I have planned to take vows because the one man that I love could not possibly love me in return.”

Caspian looked crushed. “If a Holy Order comes second to this man, how much farther down must a King’s love be in your estimation?” he said, almost too quietly for you to hear. “Who is this lucky but foolish man whose esteem you value so much more than even that of your King?” This last was spoken loudly and clearly, with a tinge of anger.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said, who is this paragon of virtue that you love him over the man before you, offering you my love and asking you to rule at my side as my queen? Give me the name of this god that I may learn at his knee,” he bit out.

You were stunned. Caspian loved you, thought you loved someone else and was jealous of him. “You do not understand, My King –”

“Who is he?” he interrupted. Not loudly, but it was definitely an order that he did not want to give again.

“He is a very noble, kind man. He is learned, brave, talented with many weapons, has the respect and love of humans and Narnians alike. He is also the most handsome man I have ever beheld.”

“A name, Lady,” he ordered, rapidly losing patience.

“I thought perhaps you would wish to know why I have loved him since very soon after I met him? He makes me laugh, but he is wise beyond his years. He is respected by his vassals, and his servants adore him.” You walked over to stand directly in front of him. “He has a freckle under his right eye that I have wanted to kiss since the day I met him, and recently he has grown a beard that makes him even more handsome, if possible. But the main reason I have loved him for so long is simply that you are the very best person I have ever had the pleasure to meet. You are the reason I am taking vows and you are the only man who could make me want a life with marriage and children. I love you, Caspian.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I have liked you since the day we met, and with every moment we spent together I became more and more fond of you until I loved and respected you above all others. If you speak of loving me, you will make me the happiest non-member of the Holy Order in Narnia!”

Caspian grinned and pulled you close, kissing you chastely at first but losing a tiny bit of control when you moaned at the new sensations.

“I must speak to your parents. But first, Y/N, my love, will you marry me and be my queen, love me as I love you and stay by my side through all that life sends our way, as I will stay by yours?”

“Yes, oh yes, Caspian!” you said as you threw yourself into his arms. “I am so afraid that I am about to wake up. Please just hold me a few moments longer, my love. Let me be certain that it is real, or at least revel in this joy if it is but a dream.”

“It is a bit of both, my love,” he whispered, then kissed your nose sweetly. “For you are truly going to be my wife and it is my dream come true.

“Come, let us speak to your parents together. I plan to spend the rest of my life with you at my side and I want that to begin now.”

“Yes, darling. Our secret love need not be a secret any longer.”


End file.
